


Left Hanging

by wneleh



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode: s03e02 Three Point Shot, Gen, I have no memory of writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wneleh/pseuds/wneleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A <i>Three Point Shot</i> epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Hanging

**Author's Note:**

> When I saw _Three Point Shot_ for the first time, the ending really left me cold. Simon's "Can you hang on for a few minutes" to Jim, who is hanging onto a chain from the rafters of the Cascade Sports Arena with murderer Ray Krause clinging to him, seemed really heartless, and Jim was too superman-Ellison. When I later watched the episode, a different interpretation of what was up (so to speak) came to me.

"I can't believe it, Simon! That scoreboard missed everyone by inches! We won the game AND solved the crime! Where's Jim?"

Simon grasped Blair Sandburg's shoulder and pointed upwards. Blair's intake of air was audible. "Oh, man, Simon, Jim's up there! Tell me he's tied to something. There's no way he can hold on very long with Krause hanging onto him. He's gotta be 100 feet up!"

"One-oh-six floor-to-roof, he's probably 15 feet below that," said H, rushing over trailing several security workers.

"Simon, how on earth are we going to get them down?" Sandburg continued. "There's a standard procedure for this, right?"

"SandburgI" Simon looked like he was about to explode. Instead, he grabbed H's radio and thrust it at Blair. "Keep Jim posted. Keep him calm."

"Uh, okay," said Blair. Calm. For Jim, he could do calm.

He walked backwards, his eyes fixed on the pair high above the hardwood floor of the Cascade Sports Arena, until he brushed against a folding chair and collapsed into it. Activating the radio, he said, "Jim, how's it going?"

"Blair! Glad you stole a radio. We're okay for now. I've looped a foot around the chain, so my right leg's bearing most of our weight, and Krause has gotten his arm hooked into my belt so he's okay."

"Sounds friendly."

"As can be. So what's the plan?"

"I think they're still working on one," said Blair.

He paused. There were probably a dozen people listening in, but he thought he'd better warn Jim, as obliquely as possible. "It might, uh, get a bit noisy if the PA system is used. You okay with that?"

Jim chuckled. "Dialed down on everything, Chief."

As if on queue, the arena announcer's voice boomed through the building. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we appreciate the calm you all have shown during our post-game show here. We ask that you all remain in your seats for a few minutes more as we get some emergency equipment into the arena. Our first priority is to get our friends up there to safety."

A collective gasp went through the building as most of the assembled fans noticed, for the first time, the couple hanging above the wreckage of the scoreboard.

"Jim, you're gonna be famous," Blair said into his radio. "Try to keep the north side of the arena to your right. That's where the cameras are, and 'right' is definitely your good side."

"And you'll be keeping them to your left?"

"Absolutely."

About twenty people were now pulling the scoreboard assembly off of the court, leaving large gouges in the surface. As the court was cleared, the Jag cheerleaders emerged from the locker room area dragging tumbling mats, which they quickly laid out.

"Blair, what the blazes are those supposed to do for us?" Jim barked into his pick-up.

"I don't know! I think they're freelancing."

"Great."

"Fire and rescue is almost here," cut in Simon's voice.

"I guess the mats are better than nothing," Blair started to say, letting his voice trail off when he realized that this was one of those instances when 'close' just wasn't going to cut it.

"Shit!" said Jim, and Blair's heart skipped a beat as something small dropped from the ceiling. Jim's radio hit the mat, bounced, and shattered as it hit the wood floor.

Blair shot out of his chair. He had to get where Jim could see him. H hustled over. "Captain says I should grease the path for you," he said, pointing into the highest mid-court seating area. Together, they dashed up the steps, H flashing his badge to get them through the door and into the ceiling's supports. H flashed Jim a thumbs-up, then left Blair at the closest approach to Jim and Krause.

He and Jim probably weren't much closer than they'd been a minute earlier - maybe sixty feet instead of a hundred - but it felt much nearer. "Ya okay?" Blair called.

Jim nodded. To Blair, he looked ragged. Sweat was dripping down the side of his face and staining his shirt. His foot looked secure enough, but Blair figured it couldn't be comfortable. Krause, with his left arm hooked through Jim's belt and his right arm and legs clinging to Jim, looked to be in similar shape. Clearly, they couldn't maintain this for much longer.

The security chief's eyes were squeezed shut, and his lips were moving as if in prayer. 'What does someone who has murdered out of greed pray for?' Blair wondered. Could this all be some sort of divine justice? Blair shook his head to clear it of the thought.

Below them, about a dozen rescue workers rushed onto the court, carrying the pieces of a large life net. They shoved the tumbling mats aside and set up the apparatus. In Blair's ear, Simon said, "That thing they're putting together is only rated for falls of four floors or so. Tell Jim it's just part of the plan."

"Okay." From the look on Jim's face, he also knew the limits of the life net. Raising his voice, Blair said, "Jim, Simon says this is just step A."

Jim nodded, the slight movement causing them to slowly turn.

"Jim, you're showing the cameras your bad side."

That got a grin, at least.

A moment later, Blair was joined at his perch by a team of rescue workers carrying several different thicknesses of string and rope. "Lt. Ellison," one called out, "we've got a weighted string here we're going to toss you. We'll be holding the other end, so it's okay if you miss it the first couple of tries. Once you catch it, loop it through a link of the chain and pull it. We're going to attach a stronger rope to it, and when it gets to you you'll need to tie it off. Then you and Mr. Krause can climb down the rope to the floor. If you slip, the net'll catch you. Do you understand?"

"Okay," Jim called. "I'll probably have to catch it with my head."

"Yes sir, we're think of this more like lassoing than playing catch."

The first attempt fell far short; the second was wide right.

"Uh," said Blair, "could I give it a try?"

The rescue worker shook his head, sending the string-trailing weight out again. This time, it bounced off of Jim's back.

"Let Sandburg have a shot," called Jim. "I've seen him beam a perp in the head from twice this distance."

Shrugging, the team leader handed the weight to Blair. It was a metal loop, about as heavy as a baseball. It would definitely hurt to be hit with the thing; he figured he'd better toss it underhand to keep the speed down, and aim for between Jim's head and the chain.

Blair's throw sailed high, then fell towards, and over, Jim and Krause. The trailing string slid across Jim's arms, stopping when it was taut. The team leader attached a thicker rope to the string with a loose knot and started to feed it across; Jim spared a hand to pull the string. In a moment, he had the rope fed through a link and tied.

"Now, Mr. Krause, take hold of the rope and climb down," called the rescue team leader. "It's critical that you and Mr. Ellison not drop onto the life net at the same time."

"No way!" said Krause, the first time Blair had heard him speak. "You just want me out of the way to give you more time to get the cop down."

Blair thought that this would have been a dandy idea. Not, alas, their plan.

Blair saw Jim speaking downward to Krause, but couldn't make out what he was saying. Krause shook his head vigorously and started to climb up Jim's body. After a moment, Jim reached down with one hand and helped him move higher. Blair couldn't follow what happened next, but suddenly Krause and Jim decoupled, with Krause hanging desperately onto the chain and Jim, maybe due to a push from Krause, arching backwards. In a moment, Jim was dangling upside down, his right leg still, thankfully, entangled in the chain. Jim reached for the rope and used it to pull himself, slowly, back up. Below, the crowd let out a cheer. This surprised Blair more than anything else - he'd forgotten about their 15,000 observers.

Slowly, carefully, Jim freed his right leg, then began to climb down the rope. After a few feet, he paused and formed a half-knot with his right foot, similar to the one he'd had in the chain, which allowed him to rest. Blair saw Jim and Krause talking, and figured that Jim was showing Krause how to do the same thing; with some relief, he saw Krause make a foothold of his own. Jim continued to slowly make his way down the rope. When he was about 20 feet above the life net, he allowed himself to fall from the rope and into the net, to great applause.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Lt. Jim Ellison of the Cascade PD," the announcer's voice boomed.

Once Jim's feet reached solid ground, Blair turned and darted down the stairs. As he reached the floor of the arena, he saw Krause drop from perhaps forty feet up, safely into the life net. As much as he despised Krause, he was thrilled - there would be no more death in this place.

Blair ran over to where Jim was being checked out by EMTs; between his earlier fight with Krause and his most recent ordeal, he was sore everywhere, but seemingly had suffered nothing more serious than raw skin, scrapes, strained muscles, and the odd contusion or three.

"Jim, you okay?"

"Sandburg!" Jim reached out and pulled Blair into a one-armed hug. "Good throw, Chief," he murmured. "Next time, you take the first shot, okay? You can see why we cream the FD in softball every year."

"Okay, man. I'll arm wrestle them for the privilege."

"You do that, kid."

Blair stepped back. "You really are okay?"

"Seem to be."

"Because this is all my fault. If I hadn't withheld what I knew about Orvelle's bracelet, this case would have taken a totally different path, and none of this would have happened."

Jim laughed. "Blair, I'm not in the mood for might-have-beens. You screwed up, but we wouldn't have known a thing about that bracelet if it weren't for you, so I think that comes out about even.

"And, I want to thank you - being in free fall there for a few seconds reminded me how much fun parachuting can be."

"Oh, man, don't even THINK about taking up parachuting as a hobby," said Blair, shuddering. "I'm never jumping out of a perfectly good airplane again."

"Well, if you want to come along, we could take up bungie jumping instead."

"No way."

"Drag racing?"

"Not with your record."

"Cliff diving? Bare-skinned pearl diving?"

"Now you're yanking my chain."

"Sandburg, don't you dare say the word 'chain'..."


End file.
